


Giving Thanks In The Fallout

by yuletide_archivist



Category: Young Justice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-04
Updated: 2007-01-04
Packaged: 2018-01-25 04:30:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1631603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuletide_archivist/pseuds/yuletide_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Having Thanksgiving dinner isn't easy after the Apocalypse. Anita, Kon, and Cassie do their best.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Giving Thanks In The Fallout

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Museum T Win

 

 

"Are you sure," Kon said, picking up a series of children's books, "that she doesn't just want it for some weird ritual?"

Cassie looked up from the expiration dates on the cans she was examining. "No. It's just for Thanksgiving. Plain, mildew Thanksgiving. Why is that so hard for you to believe?"

Kon finished scanning through one book and put it back on the spinny rack. He gave it a twist, then bent down to pick up some scattered greeting cards and returned them to their shelf. One small gesture. A hundred trips to this place from sun-up to sundown and he would never have it clean. But he could always make one little attempt. Just for his own peace of mind.

Cassie looked back at the can of mandarin oranges, was satisfied, shoved it in her bag. "You could give me some help here."

He looked at the stack of books in his hand. None of them looked that familiar. He threw them back in their rack and went over to Cassie. She'd never bothered repairing her costume after that refinery explosion, just strapped on a pair of jeans and an official Wonder Woman T-shirt that makes her look like a feminized version of that costume Superboy wore back when he had no powers. Kon's stayed mostly with his costume, out of solidarity to Robin (not Tim... he never comes out of the costume these days), but the boots are a bit of a concession. He could walk over broken glass and crunch it into powder.

Cassie shuddered a bit as he kissed the back of her shirt, right where the tag was, then pulled down the collar and kissed her bare skin. Before she had time to tell him to get back to business, he was already sorting through the cans with her, throwing the expired ones into a half-full shopping cart and stuffing the good ones into a bag.

"You know, we would get a lot more of these before the expiration dates if Robin would let us stay out after dark."

Cassie resisted the urge to elbow him. He was a good guy and he's risen to the occasion like a champion, but damned if he didn't still need everything he disagreed with to be explained to him twenty times. "Robin doesn't want to lose anyone else. Not after what happened to Slobo."

"Slobo left."

"We don't know that."

"C'mon, Cass. You know what he's like. You really think he'd stay? No, he got while the getting was good."

Cassie shook her head. "No. Slobo was one of us. Look, cranberry sauce."

* * *

Anita was waiting for them at the door, with a kiss for both of them as usual. She held onto Cassie's forearm and squeezed it as Kon emptied the bags onto the table. It always went like that. Just put the three of them in the same room and they were soon hanging off each other, making skin contact even though they weren't actually flirting. Maybe touching was just more prevalent after what they had been through. Assure themselves they were still alive. It wasn't sexual so much as some fucked-up surrogate family thing.

Anita sorta hugged him from behind, head and one arm poking over his shoulder to examine the cans, her other arm running down his muscular arm, leaning against the table. Her weight rested on his back, breasts pressing against his shoulder blades. Anita didn't bother with a costume. She barely bothered with wearing anything, usually just drowning in one of Kon's black T-shirts, a pair of bowers on beneath it. They were all so different here.

"Scotch broth," Anita said, picking up a can, as Cassie held out the can-opener. Wonder Girl was sitting on the table, shoving already-sorted cans into the cupboard. "Tim's favorite. Maybe it'll wake him out of his funk."

"Maybe not having everyone he cared about dead would wake him out of his funk."

Anita gave Cassie a look as she took the can-opener and began to make the soup. "He been like this all day?"

"This morning too. Sorry for leaving you in the lurch like that. We couldn't waste any sunlight."

"S'okay. I found your note on the bedstand." Anita shoved the meal in the microwave and started nuking it. "So, Kon, ya wanna talk about it?"

"Nothing to talk about. I'm fine."

"Kon..." Cassie's hand over his shoulder, up the side of his neck, rubbing around the ear. "For Thanksgiving, you're not acting very thankful. The others look up to us, if you can't..."

"Oh, fine, I'll put on an act for your big supper. `Gee, I'm thankful that I didn't die like seventy-five percent of the planet. Just thirty-four shopping days till Christmas, maybe we can find some nice dust, since that's all that's left of pretty much everything.'"

Anita's fingers around his throat, squeezing, forcing his gaze on her. "I hear you talking like that around anyone else, mon, and I'll hurt you. That's not the right way."

His fingers around her wrist, pulling her hand away. Then guiding it back up to his lips, pressing a kiss against the knuckle. Cassie's hand from behind, wiping the tears from his cheeks. Barely any space between the three of them any more.

"I can't do it," Kon said between the gaps in Anita's fingers. "I can't be Superman, I'm not ready. I'm not ready. I still wanna... I still wanna be young and free and have fun. I want things back the way they used to be and don't tell me you don't too."

"No one's asking you to be Superman." Cassie's voice in his ear, her cheek against his. "Just be you. We're all fine with that."

Anita gave Cassie a quick kiss, then moved an inch to the right and gave Kon the same. "This's been hard on all of us. Maybe it'd be best if you didn't come to the feast. We could always say you were out foraging..."

"No. No, I'll be there. For you two." He put an arm around Cassie's waist. Anita put a hand on his shoulder. "So, how do we resolve the footsie situation? Cassie sits in the middle, we make the sandwich with her?"

Anita's other hand, encircling his ankle, pushing up his pantleg. "What? And me miss out on stroking these calves? Not happening."

"Maybe we could switch the seating around between courses," Cassie suggested, always the leader, brushing the side of Kon's face with the back of her hand before she reached out to Anita. "Give everyone a chance in the middle."

Anita let Cassie's hand caress her face. "Sounds good to me."

The microwave timer rang. "I'll go take it to Tim," Kon said as he got up from his leaning, letting Anita and Cassie melt against each other in his absence. Anita spun around as she fell so that her back landed on Cassie. Cassie snuggled into her back, artlessly tweaking Anita's nipple through the thick black fabric. It brought lazy smiles to both their faces.

"I don't suppose," Kon said as he pulled the dish out of the microwave, "that we've found Steph yet? That would get Tim's attention."

"Not yet," Anita said as Cassie ran her lips over the Jamaican's scalp. "But like you said, thirty-four shopping days till Christmas. Never say die."

"It goes unsaid."

* * *

Robin was right where Kon had left him, still working through the cached readings at his desk. His cape was hopelessly wrinkled and his mask seemed to be sagging down his face, but he was still working.

"Things have settled down," Kon said as he set the bowl down. "People are picking up their lives. We're even having a Thanksgiving feast. Cassie's got Bart peeling the potatoes."

Robin kept working. His pencil endlessly scrawled against a piece of notebook paper, jotting down an equation before he angrily rubbed it out with his eraser.

"What I'm saying is... no one really dwells on what happened. They don't care what caused the catastrophe. They just want to start rebuilding."

Robin said nothing.

"Because even if they did find out," Kon's voice was raising, "it wouldn't bring back the people they'd lost. It wouldn't make a difference."

Robin wadded up the paper he was working on and grabbed a new one from the pile.

"We all miss you, man. Team's not the same since you went haywire. I, uh... I wanted to know something. I remember reading once, in this kid's book, that there were wild turkeys upstate. So I was just wondering, ya know... maybe we could grab a few for the feast, have a real Thanksgiving."

Robin sharpened his pencil and kept writing.

"Alright, Tim, that's fine. That's just great. You tell me when you find out anything, all right? Enjoy your soup"

Kon got up to leave.

"The Vista Trill Mountain Range."

Kon turned around.

"If there are any left, you'll find them at the base of the mountains."

"Thanks, man. You wanna come? Be the founder of the feast?"

"No thanks. And Kon?"

"Yeah."

"It'll make a difference to me."

* * *

The talk with Robin made him feel like he's gone ten rounds with a heavyweight boxer, sans invulnerability, but Tim's response gave him a giddy feeling. Maybe everything would be alright.

The door to their quarters were unlocked and he snuck in. A familiar black shirt with his logo was hanging from the bedpost. Cassie was already asleep, blonde locks spilling out against the pillow. Anita was awake, spooning with Cassie. When Kon entered, she rolled onto her back, leaving one arm pinned under Cassie.

"You took your sweet time, mon."

"Errands."

He stripped off his clothes and crawled into bed beside her. There'd be no lovemaking tonight, for any of them. Just the warm comfort of sharing the same bed. He buried his face in the nape of her neck as their bodies intertwined, finding defendable positions. Cassie was pulled along for the ride until all three of them were bound together, the covers stretched between them, limbs poking out where the bedsheets fell short.

"So, what's on the agenda for tomorrow?" Anita whispered after he kissed her good night and fluffed his own pillow into a satisfactory headrest.

"We go turkey-hunting."

* * *

Astoundingly, they managed to find someone among the survivors who knew how to cook wild turkey. Anita was the only one who wasn't too squeamish to help with the cooking during the part. It took some improvisation, but they managed to get most of the staples of Thanksgiving dinner on the table. Families, cliques, and general groups were served and cloistered together wherever there was room, eating and talking in mild voices. Kon and Anita and Cassie did sit together, although Kon insisted that he was gypped because he had gotten "the butt part" of the turkey.

A half hour in, the chatter had died down and those still hungry were going for seconds, while others were boxing up what was left for leftovers, when a haggard voice rang out over the din.

"I'm thankful..."

Everyone looked up to see Tim Drake. He stood at the top of the stairs. Although he hadn't shaved, he'd managed to find a suit to wear. Tim took a few steps down the staircase, cleared his throat, and looked up at the survivors.

"I'm thankful for friends. Family. The people we have left." He turned his attention to Kon. "You save me some turkey?"

 


End file.
